Daughter of Tulkas
by Eternal Cosmic Sailor Saturn
Summary: Authiel wasn't even her name, it was just the name she was given when she was ripped from her world and thrown into the world of Middle-Earth. More over, she has tasks that she has to complete, and that includes saving a darkness-stricken Elvenking and a gold-mad dwarven one. How is she suppose to get back home with all this piled up?


Hey everyone! So as it turns out, as an author: I'm not dead! Eek! Is that even possible?! Anywho, this was sitting around in my mind for a while and I just couldn't pass it up. Yes it is solely in the Hobbit category because while I do reference MSLN (Mahou Shojou Lyrical Nanoha) it isn't going to continue passed this part in the story (should I ever end up going further than this one-shot). Hence where it is.

Disclaimer: I DO NOT own any part of Tolkien's wonderful works, nor any part of MSLN either. T^T If I did, would I be writing fan fictions here?

* * *

The pale elf sat upon his pale throne, scowling down at her.

"I find it hard to believe what you say." he drawled, attempting-and failing-to appear calm and aloof.

"I don't really care whether you believe me or not, Thranduil Oropherion. I have lost all I know and love for your world, and I will do my task regardless of your beliefs." she snapped, irritated that he would try to delay her-expected though it was.

"And yet you must care, for no one enters or leaves my Halls but for my consent." he replied airily.

She quirked a brow.

"Are you telling me that Thorin's Company had your consent to leave? Or I to enter?" she retorted.

Two patches of red appeared on his cheeks.

"You would never be able to hold me here, and you know it. I am Authiel daughter of Tulkas, and I am going to complete the tasks set before me, with or without your help." she finished, daring him to make a move.

There was a flurry of activity as Thranduil Oropherion, Elvenking of Mirkwood, stood abruptly. Guards grabbed her arms and pointed their weapons at her.

Authiel let them as Thranduil stalked to her, having to bend down to talk into her face.

"I would rejoice at the loss of so foolish, greedy and idiotic a race as the dwarves are." he spat.

Authiel sighed. Then she flung the guards from her arms, and magic circles in gold stopped the arrows short of their mark.

Thranduil looked afraid then, backing away from her quickly.

"You have become tainted by the evil that festers in your wood, Elvenking." Authiel told him firmly, looking at him steadily as her barrier jacket and staff formed.

She pointed her staff at him then, and terror entered his eyes.

"Luckily it is only you, as you have weakened yourself to protect your people. Thankfully, I can reverse it. Estel, **Healing Light**." she told him, looking to her staff at the end.

**[Yes, sir. Healing Light Activate.]** came the mechanized voice from her staff.

A beam of golden light shot from the staff and enveloped the Elvenking. There were cries from the others in the room, but Authiel ignored them, focused solely on her magic. After what seemed like eternity but was only perhaps five minutes, Authiel sighed and her magic faded, leaving a stunned Elvenking standing before her.

"How do you feel?" she asked gently.

Thranduil looked at her, stunned.

"Lighter. Clearer of mind. Was it truly me who has done such things of late?" he replied quietly.

"When the hobbits felt the taint of evil, they left. You chose to stay and sacrificed yourself for your people. It was you, but it was a you that was but a shadow of who you truly are." she replied gently.

He still looked lost. Authiel stepped up to him and pulled him gently in for a hug. He collapsed in her arms, sobbing silently. She let him and when his grief subsided a bit, she passed him to his son. Then she stood and faced those in the room still.

"Tell all you know what happened here. Tell them that your king sacrificed himself to save all of you." she said loudly, "And tell them to rest easy. I will not leave until it is safe for you and your king."

There was a flurry of activity again, but this time no one attacked her.

"Lady Authiel."  
Authiel turned back to father and son. Both stood a little uncertainly behind her.

"What about your tasks?" asked the son, subtly holding Thranduil up.

Authiel smiled gently.

"Who's to say this isn't one of my tasks?" she returned, "The Valar have not forgotten nor ignored Arda-no matter how it may seem."

"Thank you, truly, Daughter of Tulkas." said the son then, hand over his heart as he dipped his head.

Authiel returned the gesture.

When Thranduil knelt before her, she only looked on neutrally when the others gasped.

"You have saved me in a way no one else could, or would. Not only me, but you have saved my son and my people. I owe you a great debt, Lady Authiel." said Thranduil gravely.

"I have only done as I have been bid to by the Valar." she protested gently.

Thranduil shook his head.

"Nevertheless, you still did it, and you showed me a kindness while doing so that you did not have to." protested Thranduil, "And for what you have done for me, I so swear this: I, Thranduil son of Oropher, so swear to help the Lady Authiel daughter of Tulkas in whatever capacity she needs me, from this day until the day her tasks are complete."

The chamber was silent and even Authiel's eyes were wide. Then she blinked and knelt before him.

"And I accept your oath humbly, Thranduil son of Oropher." she replied, hands on his shoulders.

It was quiet for a moment longer and then the two stood.

"Legolas, ensure everyone in our Halls knows of my oath. Then ready our army." ordered Thranduil.

His son, Legolas, nodded and hurried out, barking orders to those he passed.

"I'll have my army and healers prepared. When do we leave?" replied Thranduil to her raised brow.

"In three days. We'll make for the ruins of Dale, where the survivors of Laketown will be." Authiel smiled.

"You do not wish to battle the dragon?" asked Thranduil, puzzled.

Authiel shook her head and let her barrier jacket and staff vanish.

"No. Even if we left today, we would not make it and we would lose what valuable warriors you have. It's not Smaug's death that threatens the Line of Durin." she replied, brow furrowed, "The great battle after will. 10,000 orcs and goblins will march on Erebor."

Thranduil looked startled.

"10,000?! Even my own army could not take that host on." he protested.

"I know. I've called for reinforcements to arrive the day we do." Authiel smirked, "I knew you-or rather, the evil in you-would be difficult, so you were my last stop before the battle."

Thranduil blinked.

"Alright I can muster 1,000 spearmen and 500 archers. Anymore and I will weaken my Halls too much." he told her, "What of these reinforcements you speak of?"

"Dáin of the Iron Hills is bringing 800 dwarrow. Gwaihir of Manwë's Eagle's is bringing 300 of his people. Bëorn the skin-changer will bring 50 healers and 50 warriors. Galadriel and Elrond have pledged 500 between their two realms. And Nórin of the Grey Mountains is bringing 1,500 dwarrow with him." counted Authiel, "We should have around 4,600 warriors and a couple hundred healers. Plus, there is me."

Thranduil looked at her.

"4,600 against 10,000? Those are not good odds, my Lady, even with you fighting." he replied.

She smirked up at him.

"And if I can halve the enemy before we start in earnest?" Authiel asked, brow quirked.

Thranduil stared at her in shock and disbelief.

"If you can do that, no army in all Arda would stand against you." he said softly.

She giggled softly.

"More likely is that I'll just paint a huge target on my back. And it'll nearly deplete me to do it." she replied, "I have to conserve enough magic to save Durin's Line if they should fall. That will cost me a lot of magic too, depending on how injured they are."

Thranduil put a hand on her shoulder.

"I and my elite guard shall look after them, personally." he promised.

"Thorin won't thank you for it." Authiel quipped.

He chuckled.

"No, but if it will help you, then I shall survive." he replied.

-8-

"How many orcs?" asked the lake-man hoarsely.

"10,000 strong. I have an army of 4,600 who have sworn to help me in this. You are not undefended, Bard." replied Authiel kindly.

When they'd arrived in the ruins of Dale, the survivors had been ecstatic-until they explained of the real reason for their arrival.

"I can add 200 men to that number." said Bard shakily, "But still, what can a force of 4,800 hope to achieve against such a host?"

The captain of the Lothlórien-Rivendell elves stepped forward.

"Lady Authiel is the daughter of the Vala Tulkas, he who is called the Valar's Champion." said the elf calmly, "She says that she will take care of half of the enemy's forces before we engage them."

Bard gaped at her.

"I have a powerful magic in my possession. I can, indeed, do this, but it will leave me weak for a time after. 5,000 is a more reasonable number to battle, don't you think so?" Authiel replied, winking at him to help put him at ease.

"And what of after?" asked the man.

"We all have plans to remain long enough after the battle to clear our dead." explained Thranduil, "Then Lord Dáin's dwarrow and my elves shall remain to rebuild Dale."

"And I shall remain for a time as well." added Authiel, "Now, have you tried to speak to Thorin since he entered the mountain?"

-8-

"I like not this plan." muttered Nórin.

Authiel shrugged.

"I don't either, but it must be as it is or Thorin shall be lost to the gold sickness all his life." she replied, "One way or another, Thorin Oakenshield must sit upon Erebor's throne in the coming years or all dwarrow shall fade."

"Doesn't mean I have to like it." muttered the Lord of the Grey Mountains.

Authiel smirked.

"That is certainly true." she replied.

A screen of her magic popped up then, startling the dwarrow beside her.

"Ah. The orcs have crossed the first checkpoint." Authiel muttered, looking at the screen.

She waved a hand and the image turned to the front gates of Erebor. They saw Thorin dangling Bilbo over the battlements, and Dáin's arrival.

Authiel waved a hand and it vanished.

"Whelp, time to get ready." she said grimly.

Nórin bowed.

"I'll send the messages and being the preparations, my Lady." he said.

Authiel nodded.

"When everyone is in place, I'll begin." she replied, "Good luck, my lord, and may Mahal's fires strengthen your axes."

Nórin gave her a wicked rin and left the tent. Authiel then sighed.

"Estel. Set up." she said softly.

The pendant around her neck glowed as a mechanized voice answered.

**[Yes, sir. Set up.]**

A flash of golden light later and she held her staff and her barrier jacket was in place.

"Here goes nothing." she muttered quietly, leaving her tent.

-8-

Authiel stood on her mark before the combined forces of Thranduil, Bard and Dain.

Nerves pooled in her gut as the foul horde came over the ridge. For all her bravado and bluster, for all her years of training, she'd never fought so many beings before at the same time.

_Thank goodness for old evidence videos._ she thought morbidly, _I wonder if Fate would forgive me for what I'm about to do._

Authiel sighed and shook her head to clear it. She had to focus. She had to carefully control her magic and how much she used.

Authiel waited, watching the orc horde get closer, waiting until Estel chimed. They'd passed the final checkpoint: they were in range now.

Ignoring the gasps and murmurs behind her, she rose, flying up a good hundred feet to get the best view.

"**W.A.S. Activate**." she intoned quietly.

Estel flashed and four balls of magic scattered from her.

"Well, here goes. Ready, Estel?" she murmured.

**[Yes, sir.]** flashed her device.

Authiel swept Estel out to the side, and thousands of golden orbs of magic formed.

**[Plasma Lancer: Genocide Shift]** intoned Estel.

Authiel closed her eyes briefly, controlling her magic tightly. Then she took a deep breath and opened her eyes.

"SHOOT!" ordered Authiel, pointing Estel towards the orc horde.

**[Shoot.]** flashed Estel, and the orbs flashed forward.

Moments later screeches came to her ears as thousands of the fell creatures fell beneath the might of her magic bullets.

**[Sir. You have sustained serious damage to your linker core.]** flashed Estel.

Authiel grit her teeth against the pain, not noticing the blood dripping from her nose.

"I know, but I cannot stop yet." she ground out.

As her attack finished, eagle cries cut through the air, and that was the signal for her two armies. They surged towards the frightened orc horde-those still alive at least-and began their assault.

Authiel remain in the air, surveying the battle, letting the giant eagle's deal with the fell bats in the air.

-8-

Two hours passed before two screens popped up into her field of vision.

"Thorin's in the thick of it!" came Dáin's voice as he battled a mounted orc.

"Thranduil is on his way. Do you need assistance?" replied Authiel, watching as he smashed the wargs head in.

"Nay! I am enjoying myself!" laughed the gore covered dwarrow lord as he took on the orc.

Authiel only nodded and closed his screen, turning to the other.

"Legolas and Tauriel report a second army from the North. Gundabad is emptied, as we feared." said Thranduil, fighting back-to-back with Thorin.

Authiel nodded grimly.

"How many, and how is Thorin?" she asked.

"5,000 at least. And the sickness is gone." reported Thranduil, shoving Thorin aside and beheading a lunging warg.

Authiel cursed.

"What do you need?" asked Thranduil.

"Aside from more magic? Hope and prayers." she responded sarcastically.

He looked into the screen then, and frowned.

"Why are you bleeding?" he growled, angrily stabbing another two orcs.

**[Sir has sustained substantial damage to her linker core by using that spell.]** came Estel's response when Authiel said nothing.

"My Lady!" cried Thranduil in shock.

"I knew what I was risking when I came up with this plan." Authiel replied softly, "You'd better not let anything happen to Durin's Line. I need to use what I have left on that army, or at least a portion of it."

She didn't let him reply as she closed the screen.

"Did you find them, Estel?" she murmured.

**[Yes, sir.]** flashed her device.

"Good. Target them specifically, and then what we can get of the new army." she said, "I hope you know how much I appreciate all of your help, Estel."

**[We will survive.]** came Estel's reply.

Authiel smiled sadly.

"I hope so. **Plasma Lancer**." she replied.

Dozens of golden orbs formed around her.

**[Plasma Lancer: Target Shift]** intoned Estel.

"Shoot!" shouted Authiel, pointing at her new targets.

The orbs shot out and Authiel grit her teeth at her pain. As she felt her control slip, she began to fall from the sky.

"I'm sorry, Estel." she choked out, her barrier jacket fading away as the darkness claimed her.

Authiel never heard the cries of her name, nor felt herself being plucked from her free-fall by gentle talons. All she knew was blissful darkness.

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So, what do you think? Leave me a little note if you want me to continue at all (I honestly have no clue where I'd go with this, so ideas are welcomed as well).


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